


The Stand In

by mirvly



Series: The Stand In [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Underage Drinking, and they're both juniors because I said so, i watched the perfect date and this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 18:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18783319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirvly/pseuds/mirvly
Summary: In which Blaine Anderson, in need of money and an impressive resume for college, runs an app where he acts as a stand-in date for clients who need a plus one. Until he meets Kurt Hummel, the friend of a client, and finds himself wanting to turn a fake date into a real one.Based on the plot of the Netflix movieThe Perfect Date(2019).





	The Stand In

**THE LAUNCH**

“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson, but while your grades are impressive, your application for NYU simply looks… _average_.”

The guidance counsellor’s words were still echoing through Blaine’s mind as he watched Jeff click the button that would make their new app, _The Stand-In_ , go live. After his disappointing guidance session the week before, Blaine had gone to Jeff in need of assistance building something that would dazzle the admissions department at NYU.

“This isn’t prostitution, right?” Blaine asked, suddenly unsure when he stared down at his phone. He didn’t expect requests to come rolling in right away. Part of him hoped nothing would show so that he could abandon this ridiculous idea and do something more respectable, like organize a bake sale or run for class president.

“You’re going on dates with people, not sleeping with them,” Jeff said, swinging in his chair, his excitement palpable. “This will be good, Blaine! _The Stand-In_ is a double-whammy; you get the money from your clients, while also having _inventing a freaking app_ on your resume. NYU won’t be able to keep their hands off you when you apply next year.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “And neither will your dates. Maybe this is the chance for you to meet Mr. Right.”

Blaine’s phone pinged. He looked down at the screen, eyes widening. “I hate to burst your bubble, Jeff, but unless Mr. Right’s first name is _Charlene_ , then I’m out of luck.”

A few weeks later, he’d gone on several stand-in dates. Most of them had been fairly tame, and he’d hardly had to do any kissing, besides a few pecks on the cheek. Honestly, it didn’t bother him all that much, and it at least made him appear as if he had a thriving social life (even if in reality, he never saw these people again after one day).

He was in Calculus class when his phone buzzed. Pulling it out under the desk when the teacher turned her back, he saw that he had a new request.

Jeff, in the seat next to him, leaned over to whisper, “What’s the job?”

“It just says ‘Small Intimate Get-Together With Friends’,” Blaine read.

“Sounds lame. But hey, you get paid, so don’t question it.”

Ignoring the rest of the lesson, Blaine continued reading Rachel’s oddly specific criteria for his dress code and personality. _Good listener, willing to sing duets with me but not outshine my talent, knowledgeable about Broadway…_ Luckily, it looked like he wouldn’t need to do much research for his first stand-in date. His eye caught the last bit of information tacked in at the bottom that read:

_Willing to perform a spectacular break-up scene if the boy I like ends up being interested._

Time to stretch his acting skills.

 

* * *

 

**THE “SMALL INTIMATE GET-TOGETHER”**

Blaine arrived precisely at eight o’clock. His client, Rachel, had been very specific about that. When she opened the door, dressed in a hideous frilly seafoam green frock, he realized that he was in for an interesting night.

He was the first arrival. He stared at a disturbingly accurate oil painting of Rachel that hung in the foyer as the real-life girl hung up his coat in the closet. “I told everyone else to come at 8:30 so that we could prepare,” she said, leading him down a set of stairs to a basement complete with a bar and a stage.

“Wow,” Blaine said. “This is… elaborate.”

“I like to entertain the neighbours with my angelic vocals occasionally,” Rachel said, preening at his awe over the party room. He noted that all of the alcohol in the bar was locked in cabinets, and the only drinks in reach were pink wine coolers.

“So, what exactly am I doing here?” Blaine asked. “You mentioned a boy you like…”

“Oh, yes.” Rachel was nodded, looking thoughtful as she began putting out stacks of napkins on every surface in the basement. How many spills did she expect to happen? “One day Finn will realize that he and I belong together. Today may or may not be that day, depending on how jealous he gets when he sees you.” She tapped her chin with her finger, looking Blaine up and down. “You’re definitely cute enough to get a reaction.”

“Um, thank you.”

“You must promise that you won’t fall in love with me,” Rachel said very seriously.

Blaine barked out a laugh, earning an offended look. “Sorry, it’s––it’s just that I’m sure that won’t happen, considering I’m very, very gay.”

Too late he realized outing himself to a stranger might not be the smartest move, but then the offence melted away and Rachel smiled. “Oh! Well, then. Problem solved.”

She went on to question him relentlessly about his singing experience, and was pleased to hear his involvement in the Warblers. He found out that Rachel was the leader of her school’s glee club, and that all of the other party guests would be, too. That instantly put Blaine at ease. They had common ground. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so stressful after all.

People began arriving around nine o’clock (much to Rachel’s chagrin––at eight-thirty she began religiously checking every two minutes to make sure the doorbell was working). Blaine was introduced to several new faces, his head spinning with so many names. He reminded himself that after tonight, he would never need to know the names again, but he still made an effort to remember them as best he could.

Rachel was practically buzzing with nerves when Finn lumbered in. At first, Blaine was worried that being Rachel’s “date” would earn him a beating from such a tall guy, but it didn’t take long to see Finn was harmless. He shook Blaine’s hand with a dopey grin, introducing himself as “Rachel’s… uh, friend” before being pulled away by a guy with a mohawk who Blaine was sure had an odd name too obscure to remember.

As Finn disappeared, Blaine’s eyes fell on the timid face that had been standing behind him. He blinked a few times––was he dreaming? He didn’t think he’d ever seen a boy so beautiful in his life. Wearing a bold red shirt and, oh _wow_ , how did he pull off a leather tie so effortlessly? He glanced at Rachel, wondering if she was going to introduce them, but she was staring longingly after Finn.

Blaine cleared his throat and stepped up to the stranger, extending his hand. “Hi! I’m Blaine, Rachel’s date.”

The boy looked at him like a startled deer, blue eyes going wide. You would have thought Blaine had appeared out of thin air. After just a moment too long of staring at one another, he shook Blaine’s hand and squeaked out, “Kurt Hummel.”

Regretfully, Blaine retracted his hand and immediately shoved it into his pocket to stop himself from reaching for Kurt again. He jumped when Rachel hooked her arm through his. He’d forgotten she was there. “Kurt, so glad you could make it!” she said, entirely too cheery, clearly compensating for something. “You’ve met Blaine, that’s great.”

All three of them turned at the sound of Puck letting out an exaggerated groan. “This party is _lame_!”

Rachel inhaled sharply through her nose and patted Blaine’s arm. “Excuse me, dear,” she said, and rushed away.

Blaine watched her go, jaw dropped slightly. How could she just leave him like that, next to a gorgeous boy he would definitely make a fool of himself in front of? Blaine ducked his head, laughing awkwardly, and then muttered something about making sure Rachel wasn’t going to kill anyone. He slipped away, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

 **Blaine:** I don’t think I can do this.  
**Jeff:** what happened?  
**Blaine:** CUTE GUY. WHO I CLEARLY CANNOT WOO WHEN I’M SUPPOSED TO BE DATING A GIRL.  
**Jeff:** Just remember, you’re only her stand-in for one night  
**Jeff:** Translation - GET HIS NUMBER  
**Jeff:** AND THEN CALL HIM TOMORROW  
**Jeff:** but like not if it’s going to interfere with the job

Damn. Jeff had a point. Blaine couldn’t date someone for real while he was fake dating people. That would only lead to complications. Besides, what was the chance of this Kurt guy actually liking him? One in a million? One in _two_ million?

He glanced at that leather tie again. One in ten million was more like it.

When Mohawk finally convinced Rachel to break out the real booze, Blaine was glad. He needed a little bit of liquid courage.

#

It turned out being Rachel’s date didn’t end up being too demanding. Once the alcohol started to flow and the party ramped up, she busied herself with pining after Finn and singing solos. By ten o’clock, Blaine was sure that she had forgotten about him completely. So he was left sitting at the sidelines, sipping some god-awful mix of uncommon fruit juices and tequila.

It turned out that the McKinley glee club partied hard when they wanted to. He was fairly certain that saliva had passed people’s lips in the same volume as drinks, and while it was amusing at first to see drama unfold, he soon began to wonder why he was still there.

The only other person that didn’t seem keen to get drunk and make out with the nearest living thing was Kurt, who was perched delicately on the back of the sofa across the room. Unconsciously, Blaine found his gaze drifting over to watch him. Thankfully he always caught himself before Kurt noticed and would divert his gaze somewhere else.

He watched as the big-lipped blond boy whose name he’d forgotten collapsed onto the sofa, bumping against Kurt’s legs roughly. He heard him say a distracted “Sorry, man” and then a girl he was sure was named Santana straddled him. Blaine stifled a laugh at the pure look of disgust on Kurt’s face as he scrambled away.

Their eyes met briefly as Kurt righted himself, spilling some of his drink on his red shirt in the process. Kurt gasped, looking down at himself in dismay.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Blaine grabbed a stack of napkins–– _thank you, Rachel_ ––and quickly crossed the room. He held them out to Kurt, who looked up, lips parting in surprise at Blaine’s sudden appearance.

Blaine felt his cheeks redden, and mentally blamed it on the alcohol.

“Thank you,” Kurt said softly, taking a few napkins and dabbing at his shirt.

“Nothing that’ll be a pain to get out, I hope?” Blaine asked.

“Just water, thank God,” Kurt said, a little breathlessly.

“Designated driver?”

Kurt nodded. “Our parents would kill us if I let Finn behind the wheel after a party. So that leaves me to drive.”

“You and Finn?” Blaine was confused. How were he and Finn connected?

Kurt’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, he’s not––I mean, we’re not––Finn’s my brother! Step-brother.”

Realization hit Blaine fast. Kurt had thought he was asking if he and Finn were an _item_. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, I wasn’t assuming anything! I know he and Rachel were a thing.”

“Oh. Right. I mean, I used to have a crush on him. _Before_ our parents started dating. God. That would be gross if I––Never mind.” Kurt was turning bright red. The napkins were just a ball in his fist now. Stupidly, Blaine realized he was still holding half the stack, and set it down on a nearby table.

Kurt cleared his throat. “Sorry. I won’t tell you about gay stuff. Clearly you wouldn’t want to hear about that.”

Blaine clenched his jaw to keep it from hanging open. He wanted to grab Kurt by the shoulders and shake him. He definitely, certainly, _absolutely_ wanted to hear about gay stuff. Dalton was great, but it wasn’t abundant with gay guys, even if everyone was accepting. This was Ohio, after all. “No, it’s okay!” he said.

Kurt looked at him, like he would never expect a “straight” guy to be okay with him talking about being gay. Then he shrugged one shoulder. “That’s good. I guess if you’re Rachel’s date, you know she has two dads. She’d never date a homophobe. At least, I’d hope she wouldn’t.”

Blaine couldn’t help laughing. “I actually didn’t know that about her dads. But don’t worry, I’m _definitely_ not a homophobe.”

Kurt stared at him. Blaine could practically feel his curiosity, and found himself blushing again. God, when did his legs start to feel like jelly? He needed to sit down. And drink more. He brought his cup to his lips and took a generous swig.

He had half a mind to invite Kurt to the two vacant chairs at the side of the room and pick his brain–– _why_ was he so interested in this guy he’d known for two minutes?––but before he could make any decisions, he felt a hand tugging his sleeve.

“Blaine! _Sweetie_ ,” Rachel chirped, entirely too cheery to be normal. He turned and saw her face was rather close, closer than he would’ve liked.

“Um, hey, Rachel,” he said, trying his best to return to his role of her date, which suddenly made him embarrassed, having to perform in front of Kurt.

“We need to _talk_ ,” she said pointedly. Her eyes pierced into his, as if trying to communicate something without words, but the blur of tequila was making him fuzzy.

“About what?”

Suddenly Rachel whacked his arm, too lightly to hurt but hard enough to surprise him. “About the fact that you’ve been making eyes at every girl except me tonight!” she exclaimed, raising her voice. He was alarmed when he saw tears in her eyes. “I invite you over to meet my friends and this is how you repay me? By making––making _bedroom eyes_ at them?”

Blaine glanced over in time to see Kurt’s jaw drop. The room quieted around them. It clicked, then; this was the spectacular breakup scene that had been in the contract.

He tore his arm away from her, emphasizing the slur in his words as he shot back, “Well maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so busy falling all over Finn since he got here!”

Rachel gasped, a tad dramatically, but still believable. “How _dare_ you! I have been nothing but faithful––”

“Right, _faithful_ , that’s what you want to call it.” Blaine drank the last of the liquid in his cup, grimacing at the excess tequila at the bottom. He flicked it at Rachel, and it hit her square in the chest, tiny droplets splattering on the floor. He’d apologize for that later. “Whatever, Rachel. I should have known––it’s not like you ever talk about anything besides _him_.”

He pointed to Finn, who was standing in the background, eyes wide, shuffling his feet. As he retracted his point, he thought Cooper would be proud. He huffed and turned to the stairs. “I’m out of here.”

As he climbed the stairs to the foyer, he bit back a smile. He pulled his coat out of the closet, shoved his feet into his shoes clumsily (he _was_ tipsy, after all) and slammed the door behind him.

He stood on the doorstep, teeth chattering in the cold. He quickly pulled his coat on, shivering as he made his way to his car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he turned on the heating as it dawned on him that he was in no way fit to drive. And he was far from Westerville, too; it wasn’t like he could call a taxi and leave his car there. He was stuck.

Just as he was about to call Jeff for help, there was a knock on the window next to him. He looked up and saw Kurt peering in, concern on his face. Blaine quickly rolled down the window. “Kurt?” he said, surprised to see him.

“That seemed pretty rough in there,” Kurt said. “Do you, um… need a ride? I know you’ve been drinking, and…” He trailed off, looking unsure.

Blaine blinked at him, his stomach churning at the idea of Kurt driving him home. Alone time, with the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. Then his eyebrows furrowed. “What about Finn? You said you were driving him, too.”

“I have a feeling he’ll be staying at Rachel’s tonight,” Kurt said, his laughter coming out in a puff of smoke before his smile fell away and he winced. “Sorry, that was insensitive.”

“Don’t worry about it.” How could he tell Kurt that Rachel literally meant nothing to him? Other than a potential new friend. He actually enjoyed the brief time he spent with her, and she had formidable acting chops. “And you don’t have to drive me, I live in Westerville. I know it’s a trek.”

Kurt’s eyes shifted as he mulled something over and then, shivering, maybe not just from the cold, he said, “You could crash with me.”

Oh. Blaine certainly hadn’t been expecting _that_. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” he said, though the mere thought of it made his spine tingle. It was awfully nice of Kurt to offer when they barely knew one another.

“You wouldn’t be,” Kurt said. “We could take your car? Finn could drive mine back in the morning, and then you wouldn’t have to come here to pick up yours.”

A slow smile spread on Blaine’s face, and opened the door. Kurt moved aside as he climbed out of the car. “Thank you, Kurt. I owe you.”

Ten minutes later, they were cruising down the roads of Lima, Kurt in the driver’s seat of his car. _Blaine’s_ car. He’d be giddy even if he was sober. As he watched the lights flicker past out the passenger window, he glanced over at Kurt, who was watching the road with a neutral expression.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Blaine said, blurting out the words before he could stop himself.

Kurt glanced over, his eyebrows raised, before looking back at the road. “Sure?”

“I’m not actually dating Rachel. We faked the whole thing to make Finn jealous.”

Kurt was silent. Very silent. Blaine’s heart was beating in his ears. And then he saw Kurt’s small smile. “Seriously?”

A bubble of laughter escaped him as he said, “Seriously.”

“So you’re just… Rachel’s friend?”

“Um, not exactly.” Oh, God, now he had to explain everything to Kurt, who had been so nice and offered for him to crash at his place, and he had to admit that he had never met Rachel before tonight, and Kurt would probably think he was a serial killer or something. But he couldn’t back down now. And so he launched into the explanation of the app, his derelict resume, his need of money, and how he ended up in Rachel Berry’s basement. He even let slip that he was gay, just to see Kurt’s reaction––and didn’t miss the way he brightened momentarily before schooling his expression.

By the time Blaine was done his story, they were parked outside Kurt’s house, idling in the driveway, warming their hands on the heaters.

“You know, it makes sense,” Kurt was saying, his back against the driver’s seat door as he looked at Blaine. “Rachel never mentioned you before this whole party came up. And she has so much relationship drama that I thought that was odd. But you’re very convincing.”

“Well, thank you. I hope so; I want to go into theatre when I graduate.”

Kurt’s face lit up, and wow, Blaine wished he smiled like that all the time. “Me too! Broadway’s my dream.”

“Mine too.” Blaine could hardly breathe.

They stared at one another for a long moment, suspended in time, before Blaine realized he was being weird and cleared his throat, breaking their gaze. “Kurt, it was really nice of you to offer, but I shouldn’t stay. We barely know each other, I can’t ask you to let me sleep in your house. Besides, we’ve been sitting out here so long that I’m pretty sure I’m sober.”

Kurt picked at his nails, nodding solemnly. “Yeah, you probably want to get home.”

“But…” Blaine licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “Maybe we could… go for coffee sometime?”

Kurt’s head shot up, eyes going wide as he stammered, “R-Really? I mean, yes, I’d like that. Very much.”

So after a somewhat frantic exchange of numbers, Blaine moved himself to the driver’s seat and watched Kurt walk into his house. Before disappearing through the door, he gave a timid wave, and Blaine lifted his hand in return, a faint smile on his face.

It stayed on his face the whole drive back to Westerville.

 

* * *

 

**THE LAST MINUTE APPOINTMENT**

Blaine was finishing up an assignment when his phone suddenly blew up next to him. He blinked when he saw Kurt’s name on the call display, put down his pencil, and accepted the call.

_“I need a favour.”_

They had been texting for weeks now. It started off simple enough at first––favourite movie, favourite Broadway show, that sort of thing. Blaine still hadn’t worked up the courage to ask him for coffee again, and Kurt hadn’t brought it up, either. They had seen one another at Regionals, and though the Warblers had lost, it had been worth it to see the pure joy on Kurt’s face as his glee club won. They hadn’t had a chance to talk at the event, however; Blaine didn’t want to dredge up the party drama if Finn held a grudge, so he kept his distance. Kurt had joked that if anyone found out they were talking he’d be called a traitor for more reasons than one.

And Kurt had never called him. So Blaine was startled to hear his voice on the other end of the line.

“What kind of favour?” Blaine asked.

_“I know this sounds crazy, but would you go to junior prom with me?”_

Blaine’s breath caught in his throat. He had to make sure he hadn’t imagined it. “Wait, say that again?”

_“Prom. With me. Since, you know, you do the whole stand-in date thing? It’s just, all my friends are going with someone, and you’re the only friend I have who isn’t at McKinley, and oh God, this is so weird, isn’t it? Never mind, forget I asked, I can just––”_

“Kurt,” Blaine said. “I’d love to go. And it doesn’t have to be a job, you know. You don’t have to pay me, we can just… go as friends.”

_“Oh! Okay. If you want to.”_

“I want to.” Of course he wanted to. But there was one catch. “What about Rachel and Finn?”

 _“I cleared it with Rachel already. She said she would be excited to see you, actually, and thank you for your spectacular performance at the party. Her words, not mine._ ”

Blaine chuckled, and okay, maybe he could do this. He’d need a tux, but he was sure he could borrow one of his father’s. Kurt would be in a tux, too. He drummed his fingers on the desk, filled with nervous energy. “Okay then, it’s settled. We’re going to prom.”

Kurt made a noise of excitement that was somewhere between a giggle and a squeal, and Blaine had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at how endearing it was. Kurt then filled him in on the details––it was only a few days away, and he should come pick up Kurt at his house at seven.

Blaine was so caught up in the excitement of his not-date with Kurt that it wasn’t until he hung up the phone that his heart sank into his stomach.

Because it was a _dance._

And he was going with a _guy_.

And he was so, so screwed.

#

On prom night, Blaine was sure the sweat was soaking through his tuxedo. It had to be, since he had sweat all the way from Westerville to Lima. Now he was on Kurt’s doorstep, knuckles raised to the wood of the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock.

A few long minutes passed before his phone buzzed.

 **Kurt:** How long are you going to stand out there?

Blaine felt his face flush as the door opened and Kurt stood on the other side, smiling sheepishly. He was wearing his tux with a black bowtie, hair coiffed to perfection, looking like a million dollars while Blaine was standing there like an idiot, perspiration on his forehead, his curls already starting to come free from the gel.

“Blaine? Are you okay?”

Kurt’s voice brought him back to reality. He gave an uneasy smile. “Mhm. Fine.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you look like you’re about to melt like the wicked witch of the west.”

Blaine just stood there, shuffling awkwardly, until Kurt took pity on him and said, “Do you want to come inside?” He nodded, and let himself be led into Kurt’s home. It was a beautiful house, lived-in and warm. They ended up in the kitchen, where Kurt poured them him a glass of water.

A man who must have been Kurt’s father entered the kitchen, eyes flickering between them as he adjusted his baseball cap. “You must be Blaine,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, Blaine Anderson, sir,” Blaine said, giving the friendliest smile he could muster despite his nerves.

“Burt Hummel,” Kurt’s dad responded. “Nice of you to go with Kurt.”

“It’s my pleasure, sir.”

He could feel Kurt’s eyes on him. Was he being that obvious? He would have been nervous to meet Kurt’s dad, anyway, but on top of his nerves for the dance, he was practically shaking like a leaf.

“Dad, don’t you have a date tonight?” Kurt said.

Burt’s stern look softened. “Hell yeah, I do. You kids aren’t the only ones who get to have fun. I’m taking my wife to dinner.”

“I hope you’re not wearing _that_ ,” Kurt said.

“Alright, alright. I’m goin’. You two have a good night.” He looked at Blaine. “I want him back by midnight, that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Burt nodded and shuffled out of the room. Blaine sipped his glass of water, leaning against the kitchen counter. Kurt leaned against the counter opposite him, and tilted his head curiously. “Everything okay?”

Blaine stared into his glass. “I…” He swallowed thickly. _Do NOT cry in front of the cute guy, Blaine Anderson_. “Dances make me… nervous,” he said.

“Oh. Any particular reason?”

Blaine took a deep breath. He could lie. He could brush it off. He was embarrassed, even though the logical part of his brain told him there was nothing to be embarrassed about. But when he glanced up to Kurt’s open face, curious and friendly, he knew he couldn’t lie. If anyone would understand, it was Kurt.

“At my old school, there was this Sadie Hawkins dance, and I had just come out,” he began. “So I asked a friend of mine, the only other gay guy in the school. While we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, these three guys, um…” He sighed. “They beat the living crap out of us.”

“Oh, God, Blaine. I’m so sorry.”

Blaine couldn’t look up. If he did, he feared he _would_ cry. It was an event he didn’t like to think about. He closed his eyes and pushed away the memories. “I’m out and proud, you know. This is just kind of a sore spot for me. And I should have told you, at least before I said yes, I just––I wanted to go, and you were so nice, and I didn’t want to disappoint you, and––”

“Blaine.” Kurt was suddenly much closer––when had he crossed the kitchen? He gingerly took the glass of water from Blaine’s hands and put it on the counter next to them. Blaine lifted his head, blinking as his vision was filled with hypnotic blue irises. “I wish you had said something earlier. We don’t have to go.”

“But––you were so excited.”

“I get excited by a lot of things. Alexander McQueen, The Sound of Music, Pippa Middleton…” He smiled. “It’s just junior prom, Blaine. I’ll get over it.”

If Blaine Anderson wasn’t already falling for Kurt Hummel, he would have started in that moment.

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the living room, watching Phantom of the Opera. They had cast aside (or in Kurt’s case, neatly folded) their ties and jackets, and were lounging in their dress shirts and dress pants, a bowl of popcorn between them.

A heavy set of footsteps interrupted Kurt’s zealous rant about why Gerard Butler was a crime against vocalists, and Finn appeared in the doorway, dressed in a tuxedo. He stopped when he saw them, eyes going wide when he recognized Blaine.

“Uh, hey?” Finn said, eyes flickering between them.

“Aren’t you late, Finn?” Kurt said, pausing the movie.

“Yeah, I’m on my way to get Rachel.” He continued staring at Blaine, as if he was an alien.

Blaine smiled. “You probably shouldn’t keep her waiting,” he said, not unkindly.

Finn frowned. “Since when are you guys friends?”

“Since Rachel’s party,” Kurt said.

Finn was looking more and more confused by the second. “So… are you gay, now?” he asked Blaine.

Blaine nearly choked on his popcorn. He coughed, and felt Kurt patting his back gently. “Right, Finn, because any guy who wants to hang out with me has to be gay?” Kurt said, his tone icy.

“I didn’t mean––”

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, finally regaining control over his esophagus. “I am gay, actually. Rachel and I were never together. But Kurt and I are just friends.”

“Oh.” For some reason, _that_ of all things got through to Finn, and he smiled. “Cool. I better go, then. Bye!”

They heard the front door shut, and the house dissolved into silence. Blaine took a drink of water as Kurt said, “I’m sorry about him.”

“It’s fine,” Blaine said, shrugging. “He seems alright.”

“Things were a little rough when he and Carole moved in, but… he’s come a long way,” Kurt said. “You didn’t have to tell him you’re gay, you know.”

“Yeah, well.” Blaine reached for more popcorn. “Everybody finds out eventually. Best I be the one to tell them.”

Kurt was silent. Blaine watched the frozen TV for a moment before looking over, and was surprised to see admiration in his eyes. When their eyes met, Kurt looked away and reached for the remote. The movie flared to life again.

 

* * *

 

**THE UNSPOKEN AGREEMENT**

After prom, they fell into a rhythm. Kurt would have some engagement, and he would ask Blaine to be his plus one. As friends. They would meet for coffee after school, sometimes alone, and sometimes with Kurt’s friends from McKinley. Blaine got to know Mercedes, and Tina, and Sam, and the other members of New Directions. They accepted him fairly quickly once they found out he and Rachel had never really dated, and enjoyed asking for horror stories from Blaine’s stand-ins.

He continued the jobs as they came up, and humoured Kurt when he asked to hear about each one. On the rare occasion that he acted as a stand-in for a guy, he noted how Kurt tentatively pried with questions like _Was he cute? Did he flirt with you? Did you like spending time with him?_

And Blaine answered every question, but the answers were usually the same. _Easy on the eyes, but not perfect. I could see us being friends, but not boyfriends. He was nice, but not my type._

Over time, it became clear to Blaine that his type was very specific. And that his type was, simply put, Kurt Hummel.

Summer came, and despite their lack of school taking up their schedules, both boys had a lot on their plates. Summer jobs, Blaine’s app, Kurt’s personal project to write a musical, plus fretting over university applications and auditions that they would need to prepare in the upcoming fall.

They stuck to their coffee dates-that-weren’t-really-dates, and phoned and texted whenever they could.

But Blaine was getting antsy. Because the truth was, he was head over heels for Kurt. And how could he break their unspoken agreement that whenever Kurt needed him for an event, he would be there? It was their thing now. Despite his continued business with his app, he never charged Kurt when he acted as his stand-in, because they were friends.

Friends with a capital F. How could Blaine ruin that?

But then came Sebastian Smythe.

 

* * *

 

**THE STAND-IN BECOMES THE STANDEE**

“I need a favour.”

Kurt had spoken those same words to him when he asked him to junior prom. Now it was Blaine’s turn to say the words as they sat in the Lima Bean, sipping their lattes, and discussing the upcoming school year.

Kurt leaned forward eagerly. “Do tell.”

“So, there’s this guy,” Blaine began, watching Kurt’s face carefully for his reaction. Kurt just blinked, pursing his lips slightly, and nodded. “My dad works with his dad, and they decided to introduce us. His name is Sebastian, and, well…” He grimaced. “He’s a bit… pushy.”

“Pushy?”

“If you think _I’m_ out and proud, I have nothing on this guy,” Blaine said. “I mean, he’s really not shy.”

“Still waiting to hear what the favour is, Blaine.”

Blaine bit back a smile. Was that jealousy he detected in Kurt’s tone? He tried not to think about it too hard––he was probably imagining it. “Sebastian is cute and all, but he’s not… really my type? And when I say he’s pushy, I mean he knows what he wants and he won’t stop until he gets it. So I thought maybe… to get him off my back...”

Doubt suddenly overtook him, and he shook his head. “Never mind, it’s a stupid idea.”

Kurt let out an exasperated sigh. “Just tell me, Blaine.”

Blaine took a long pull from his coffee cup. As if he didn’t have enough jitters. “I thought maybe you could pretend to be my boyfriend,” he said in a rush. “Since he really can’t seem to take a hint that I’m not interested, he might listen if he saw us together.”

“You want me to be your stand-in?”

Blaine nodded. “If… if you want.”

Kurt swirled the coffee cup in his hand thoughtfully. “I suppose I could be convinced to help you,” he said, smiling. “What exactly would I have to do?”

“Sebastian invited me to Scandals this weekend. You know, the gay bar? I could invite you along, and introduce you as my boyfriend. All we’d have to do is act like a couple, maybe dance together. Just to show him I’m taken.”

Kurt laughed lightly, a touch of pink on his cheeks. Blaine knew he was probably blushing, too. It was a bigger favour than Kurt had ever asked of him. Instead of going as friends, they would outright have to lie.

But Kurt nodded. “Okay. I’m in.”

#

Considering Sebastian came across as a classy guy, Blaine was surprised when he and Kurt pulled up to Scandals and saw just how _seedy_ it was. Of course, it was Ohio, so what did he expect of a gay bar?

“What did Sebastian say when you told him I was coming?” Kurt said as they walked up to the door.

“Something along the lines of _doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you_ ,” Blaine said, rolling his eyes. He clutched his fake ID with trembling hands. The reality of the situation was setting in. “Um, maybe we should go in holding hands or something?”

Kurt glanced at him and smiled a little. “I’ll do you one better,” he said, and snaked his arm around Blaine’s waist, pulling their hips flush together as they handed over their IDs. The bouncer barely looked at them as he waved them through. Joined at the hip, they made their way to the bar where Sebastian was already waiting.

He saw them coming and the corner of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Hey, Blaine. This your boyfriend?” He said the word with such conviction that Blaine decided it was time to really put on a show.

“Yes, this is Kurt,” Blaine said, leaning into his friend and putting a hand on his chest for good measure. Was he imagining it, or was Kurt’s heart beating a little fast? His own certainly was. “Kurt, this is Sebastian. My friend.”

“Pleasure, I’m sure,” Kurt said coldly.

Sebastian just smiled and ordered two beers. He handed one to Blaine. “Designated driver, right, Kurt?” he said, taking the second beer for himself.

“Right.”

Blaine looked at his ‘boyfriend’. “Are you sure, babe? I can drive us back if you want.”

Kurt’s mouth form a small ‘o’ at the term _babe_ , before recovering quickly with a smile. “That’s alright, hon, I don’t mind.”

“Great,” said Sebastian. “Because I am just _dying_ to see how drunk Blaine dances.”

Kurt’s hand tightened around Blaine’s waist, sending a thrill up his spine at such close contact. “Trust me, he can put on quite a show when he wants to,” Kurt said suggestively, which convinced Blaine to take the longest drink of beer known to man. If he was going to survive this night, he would definitely need to get tipsy at the very least.

Between the two of them, Blaine might have assumed that he would be the one to keep up their convincing charade. The reality was quite a shock. Kurt was, for lack of a better word, _possessive_ , and was constantly touching Blaine, whether it was on the thigh, the hip, his arm, or even brushing his fingers over his neck.

As his alcohol level went up, he wondered why he hadn’t yet asked Kurt to be his boyfriend for real.

Sebastian didn’t give up, though. Kurt watched them from the bar as Blaine swayed on the dance floor, doing shimmies and shakes that he certainly wouldn’t be doing if he was sober. His bowtie was undone, hanging loosely around his neck, while Sebastian danced around him, getting a little too close for comfort. When he moved, Sebastian followed.

He glanced at Kurt, trying to communicate with his eyes. _Help me!_ But then Kurt got distracted by some guy at the bar, and Blaine slowed down, forgetting about dancing completely. Was Kurt flirting with someone that wasn’t him? Because that just couldn’t be allowed.

He made his way over to the bar and draped his arm over Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt jumped slightly, and Blaine laughed a little. “Oops, didn’t mean to scare you, babe,” he said. The slur of his words made him sound stupidly ungraceful, but at that moment, he couldn’t find the will to care. He leaned down to Kurt’s ear. “Come dance with me,” he murmured.

He felt Kurt shiver slightly as his breath ghosted over his neck. He heard him mutter something like “I’ll talk to you later, David,” and then he was on his feet. Blaine beamed as he pulled Kurt to the dance floor, forgetting about Sebastian as he wrapped his hands around Kurt’s waist.

Someone pressed into his back, and then Sebastian’s voice was in his ear saying, “You’ve got some moves, Killer.”

Blaine pressed closer to Kurt, turning his head to respond with, “I do, Sebastian! Too bad they’re not for you.”

He felt Kurt’s chest shudder with laughter, and Kurt’s head dropped to his shoulder. “You are so drunk.”

Blaine looked over his shoulder. Sebastian seemed to have given up, and was now dancing with some older guy that looked like he could be his father. “Thanks for putting up with me,” he said, pulling back slightly.

“My pleasure,” Kurt said, smiling at him. His eyes absolutely sparkled in the dim lighting of the bar, and Blaine’s heart fluttered. “Looks like it worked.”

“Of course it worked,” Blaine said, leaning in to press their foreheads together. “Kurt, you’re the best, y’know? You’re such a good fake boyfriend that I bet you’d be the best real boyfriend, too.”

Kurt stopped dancing very suddenly, going rigid. Blaine pulled away, shame burning his face. Great, he’d gone and made Kurt uncomfortable. Good job, Anderson.

“Blaine, you’re drunk,” Kurt said again, as if this was important information he didn’t already know. “We should go.”

Blaine just nodded, letting Kurt pull him off the dance floor and out of the bar. He stumbled a little on the way to the car, and Kurt’s strong arms wound around his shoulders, keeping him steady. “You smell nice,” he said suddenly, because it was true, and he probably smelled terrible, he was practically sweating beer, and then Kurt was there smelling like hairspray and cologne, but not the chemically-smelling kind, because it smelled good. God, he _was_ drunk.

He didn’t hear Kurt’s response, too distracted by his own loud thoughts, and then he was in the car, and Kurt’s hands brushed his chest as he buckled Blaine’s seatbelt for him, and then they were driving, and Blaine was out like a light.

 

* * *

 

**THE FINAL STAND(-IN)**

How did Blaine end up sitting across from Sebastian in the Lima Bean?

Somehow, he had convinced Blaine to meet for coffee. Sebastian had backed off at the bar, but he had continued texting Blaine, saying that even if he had a boyfriend, that didn’t mean they couldn’t hang out. As friends. So stupidly, Blaine had agreed, and now he was sitting in the Lima Bean, clutching his coffee like a lifeline, shrinking under Sebastian’s piercing gaze.

“You and Kurt don’t have any pictures together,” Sebastian was saying, drawing his finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “I checked. Facebook, Instagram.”

 _Are you stalking me now?_ Blaine wanted to ask. Instead, he said, “We haven’t been together very long. Besides, this is Ohio. It’s not like we want to advertise our relationship.”

Sebastian didn’t look convinced. He leaned in, and Blaine jerked in surprise when he felt a foot press against his under the table. “Come on, Killer. You know you deserve better than––”

“Well, what a surprise!”

They both startled at the sound of Kurt’s voice, high and clear, and Blaine looked up to see who he was convinced now must be his guardian angel standing over their table. Kurt smiled, and Blaine knew him well enough to know just how forced it was as he looked at Sebastian.

Kurt pulled over an empty chair and seated himself right next to Blaine. “Just the person I was looking for,” he said.

Before Blaine knew what was happening, Kurt’s hand clasped his chin, and his soft lips were pressing to Blaine’s, lingering long enough to make his brain short-circuit. And then Kurt was pulling back and sliding his arm around Blaine’s waist, squeezing his hip tightly.

Blaine blinked and looked at Sebastian, whose eyes had gone hard across the table. “Well, this was fun, but I can see when it’s time to take my leave.” He pushed his chair back sharply and stood. “See you around, Killer.”

Blaine held his breath until the door chimed, signalling Sebastian was really gone. He turned to Kurt, eyes wide, his gaze dropping to his lips. His incredibly soft, coffee-flavoured lips that had just kissed him.

Kurt’s voice came out as ninety percent breath as he said, “Was it too much?”

Blaine let out a huff of air that was supposed to be a laugh. “Definitely not too much.”

Kurt’s face was bright red as he looked down at the table, fiddling with his coffee cup. “I don’t know what came over me. I just––I walked in, and I saw him getting close to you, and playing footsie, and I guess––I guess I forgot I was only your fake boyfriend for a minute.”

And Blaine really couldn’t stop looking at Kurt’s mouth. Now that he knew what it was like to be kissed by Kurt Hummel, he wanted to do it for the rest of his life. “What if it wasn’t fake?” he said.

Kurt’s head shot up, jaw dropping slightly. “Hm?” he squeaked.

Blaine smiled. “What if you were my real boyfriend instead?” he said quietly. “Because I’ll be honest, if that was how you fake kiss then I’d _really_ like to know how you kiss for real.”

Kurt bit his lip around a smile, getting impossibly more pink.

“I think that could be arranged.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because I watched "The Perfect Date" and thought, "this would be much better if it was gay." As one does.
> 
> My tumblr is [dukecabooms.](http://dukecabooms.tumblr.com/)


End file.
